


And I don't want any shoving.

by barthelme



Series: Where we know. [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: In the past, Timmy has had to say, "No," an awful lot.





	And I don't want any shoving.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what just happened. This is for the discord group, who are a bunch of enablers. If you are going to get annoyed about watersports, then maybe just don't read? IDK.

Armie's cock is still in Timmy. 

"I mean, I'd have to think about it," Timmy says and it doesn't sound embarrassing. It sounds like he would actually like to think about it. Come back later with a decision. 

"Yeah, I mean--"

Timmy shakes his head. Slips forward, hissing when Armie's cock leaves his body. "Don't overthink this, please?"

"Yeah, okay," Armie says.  
____

Armie has no idea why this is a _thing_ for him, but it is. 

He opens a box labeled "pots and pans" in Timmy's terrible handwriting. Starts finding homes for each item. 

Armie has no idea why this is a thing for him, but he can't stop thinking about it. 

Moving in together this quickly was possibly a mistake. Because Armie doesn't separate his laundry. Because Armie doesn't spray the shower with cleaner after he's done. Because Armie often goes to sleep much later than Timmy. Doesn't bother to put an arm over his waist. 

Armie has no idea why this is a thing for him, so when Timmy says, "I mean, I'd have to think about it," his throat goes dry and he thinks he has fucked up. 

Shit.  
_____

In the morning, Timmy doesn't say anything. 

Like, anything. He brushes his teeth and smiles with his eyes. Cocks his hip into Armie's and spits. Rinses. Doesn't even say his normal, "I love you have a good day," but he does kiss Armie. 

Just lips on lips.  
_____

"Yeah?" Armie asks as he presses his thumb into Timmy's throat. Fucks him while Timmy tries to keep his legs wrapped around Armie's. 

"Je-e-sus," Timmy gasps. Tries to hike himself up a bit further. Wrap his legs tighter but he can't, so Armie grab his thighs. Sinks in and stops. Timmy opens his mouth and breathes out. Wants to cry. "So big," he manages to whisper. 

"Yeah," Armie says. Asks, pleads, "Want me to use you?"

Timmy nods. Grips the sheets in his fists. Just holds on.  
____

Armie was worried it would be weird. That they would be silent at breakfast. That Timmy wouldn't be able to look at him. That Timmy might say, "So, I guess I didn't really like that. Last night." But he doesn't; he smiles when Armie walks into the kitchen and Armie's heart slows down a bit. "Morning," Timmy says, cocking his head to the side so Armie can kiss his cheek. 

Timmy is making scrambled eggs. Says, "So, like."

The toast pops out. 

"We'd do this in the shower?" He pushes the eggs around the pan. Scratches the back of his neck.

Armie takes a bit of his bagel. "Tim, I don't really want you to--"

Timmy flips his eggs. Rolls his eyes and smirks. "Okay, yeah you do."  
____

The first time, Timmy gets too hard. It's a combination of things, but mainly the way Armie sinks to his knees. The way he has to lower himself by sinking back on his heels, hands behind his back, one hand holding the other wrist. Eyes closed, mouth open and, "Fuck," Timmy tries to calm down; he just had like three glasses of water and, yeah, maybe he does want to do this. At least try it. 

("It's for Armie," he'd assured himself in the kitchen when he heard the shower start. Armie had just gotten back from the gym; hadn't even kissed Timmy hello. It was good timing. Unexpected, no pressure. Timmy finished the glass of water and placed the empty dish in the sink. Wiped his hands on his sweatpants. Nodded. "Yeah.")

Timmy grimaces. Squeezes the base of his cock, but it's no use. "I can't," Timmy groans. The water is pelting his back. "Fuck," he looks up at the ceiling, squeezes harder. "Armie, I'm sorry," Timmy says, defeated. 

"No, no, don't say that," Armie leans in, wraps his mouth around Timmy's cock. His hands are still folded behind his back, eyes closed, cock hard and Timmy never stood a chance, did he?

Afterwards, Timmy is drying off his legs while Armie searches for clean underwear. "So, I don't think I want to do it on your face," he spits out too quickly. 

Armie finds a pair in his sock drawer. "What'd you say?" Pulls them on. 

Timmy tosses the towel to the hamper. It's laundry night, even if he doesn't want it to be. Slowly repeats, "I don't think I want to do it on your face." Adds, "Or your mouth, really. I don't know."

Armie steps closer. Pulls Timmy in for a hug, kisses his wet hair. "You can, if you want. But you don't have to do anything, Timmy."

Timmy nods. Kisses the hollow above Armie's collar bone. 

_____

In the past, Timmy has had to say, "No," an awful lot. He tries not to think about it much, but it likely has to do with his face. He's always looked young and apparently, some guys are into that. 

No, he doesn't want to call you "Daddy."  
He's not your "little boy."  
Not really into being put over your knee, but thanks for asking so nicely.  
Definitely going to stop you before you finish your babysitter role play idea.

(The first time Armie made a comment about Timmy's body, it wasn't about his face. Not his thin wrists, delicate ankles. The way his waist nips in, the slight curve of his ass, or the boyish knobiness of his knees. 

They were watching a movie and Armie was holding Timmy's hand. Running his thumb along his fingers, the pads of his fingers. The base of his wrist. "You," Armie said, "have the sexiest hands I've ever seen."

Timmy snorted. Tensed. Waited to be completely turned off and mortified by what might come out of Armie's mouth. Thought, _Well, it's been a good few weeks._

"Like, they just feel strong."

Timmy exhaled. Smiled. "It's all the finger exercises I do." Leaned into Armie's body.)

It's also the way he talks, apparently. He's used to being calculated with his words; he has to be because of the high school. So, yeah, he's been asked to say things in bed that he'd rather not. And the opposite has been a problem, too. There's a way to slap someone and call them a slut and make it hot, and there's a way to just make a person feel bad. Timmy has been on the wrong side of that too many times. 

(These thoughts are a rabbit hole that Timmy wants to live in. The first time Armie slapped him, it was soft. More like a nudge than anything. Their eyes locked and Armie quirked an eyebrow. Waited for Timmy's nod, then slapped him harder. "Such a slut," Armie hissed, leaned down and kissed where Timmy's cheek stung. 

"Just for you," Timmy whispered, spreading his legs to take Armie even deeper.)

It's different with Armie. He doesn't have to rush to say "no." He hovers on "maybe" an awful lot, knowing Armie won't be upset if it switches to "no" at some point.  
_____

Armie has never asked anyone to do this. Hell, his previous boyfriend didn't even know Armie liked to bottom because he was too nervous to just ask for it. He went along with their routine. And that might be why Armie tells Timmy, because the first time Timmy fucked Armie, he didn't even ask if Armie switched. 

(They were on Timmy's couch, Armie in Timmy's lap. Clothed and grinding against one another; Timmy licked his neck. Stopped right behind Armie's ear and said, "I want you to ride my cock," and Armie had jerked his hips up, unable to hold back a groan.)

Armie could ask anything of Timmy. He just knows it.  
_____

The second time, Timmy looks up from his papers. Puts down his pen. "Hey, do you want to," he nods towards the bathroom. Armie is trying to fix the kitchen sink. Drops the wrench. 

"Right now?" Armie asks. Blushes and picks up the wrench. "I'm in the middle of," he waves the wrench above the sink. "Fixing."

Timmy picks up his pen, bounces his knee. "Okay, yeah. I mean, I need to grade these, anyways."

Armie nods. "Yeah. Yeah."  
_____

Nick is very proud of himself. "I knew you two would be perfect together," he says the day before their first anniversary. He pours a cup of coffee before sitting next to Timmy on the lounge couch. 

Timmy rolls his eyes. He has a handful of pretzels that he's been slowly eating, not wanting to finish because that would mean he has to do lesson planning. "Nick, your best friend is basically an Abercrombie model. I'm sure you could've set him up with anyone and--"

Nick slaps Timmy's shoulder. "Stop that." Sips his coffee. 

"Jesus, Nick," Timmy rubs his shoulder with his free hand before grabbing another pretzel. "And stop what? It's true."

It's Nick's turn to roll his eyes. "Don't sell yourself short. I've set him up with a lot of guys and none of them got a second date. Did he ever tell you that he texted me during your first date?"

"He what?" 

Nick nods and steals a pretzel. "You were in the bathroom and he texted me a fucking heart eye emoji."

Timmy snorts. "Armie doesn't use emoj--"

"Yep, but he did like twenty minutes after meeting you. So don't sell yourself short, ever."

Timmy blushes. Finishes his pretzels so he has an excuse to walk away.  
_____

The third time, Armie's back aches. It's a combination of the shower grit and a tough workout hours ago. 

(It's a lot of other things, too. Armie had a rough day at work and Timmy had to kick his favorite student out of class for swearing. Their anniversary reservations the night before got fucked up and they ended up getting Taco Bell and eating at a park. Timmy forgot it was his mom's birthday and had to spend the night talking to her instead of enjoying the night with Armie. Armie woke up late. Timmy woke up too early. They were out of bread and couldn't have toast.)

"Do you want me to?" Timmy asks while Armie works his cock. Armie is wedged in the tub, knees bent, legs spread to barely make room for Timmy between them. 

Armie nods, quick, rapid. Shy. Closes his eyes and bites his lip. Runs his thumb over the head of his cock. "If you want," he adds. 

"No, no, no. Look at me," Timmy prods. Holds his cock. His belly aches and he feels close to Armie. Closer than normal, closer than when they fuck, when they put their mouths on one another. When they share thoughts, concerns. This might not be his _thing_ like it apparently is for Armie, but he can see how it could be. "Don't be shy," he says. "Don't."

Armie opens his eyes and Timmy can tell he's close. He's jerking himself almost too roughly, trying to stave off his orgasm. His eyes are lidded, mouth open. "You can, on my," Armie starts. Silences himself. 

"No," Timmy says. "Not tonight." Grips himself and releases, splashing over Armie's stomach, his chest. His shoulders. "Fuck," Timmy breathes. Lets himself go while he watches Armie arch his back into the stream, watches as he comes, spilling over his belly. Lidded eyes fluttering closed, opening again. Locking onto Timmy as he finishes.

"Fuck," Armie breathes. "Fuck. I've never. That's like, the only time I--"

Timmy nods, reaches down to cup Armie's cheek. "Can I turn the water on?" Armie nods and Timmy reaches back. Checks the water to make sure it's comfortable, then turns on the shower. Grabs the soap and scrubs Armie's chest. "Was that okay?"

Armie laughs. Nods. "Yeah." Closes his eyes as Timmy cleans his belly, his cock. "Will you fuck me in a bit?"

Timmy rolls his eyes, slips a soaped finger under Armie's balls. Presses against his hole. "Ugh, yeah that was the plan, you dork."

**Author's Note:**

> bartbarthelme on tumblr


End file.
